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Sins of the Father

Page 88

by Cate Bishop

My breath catches in my throat. The darkness behind his eyes strikes me in a way that makes my stomach clench. It’s so similar to what I saw in his expression in that awful basement, when he was letting that poor boy suffer and choke. I swallow hard.

I don’t have a choice… I will protect you… At all costs.

The tears in my eyes start falling, because I don’t want to ruin this moment. I don’t ask questions if I don’t want to know the answers, that’s the rule that keeps me safe.

But this is the rest of our lives.

The niggling question in my brain has raised its volume to a warning scream. Surely my Liam doesn’t seek out violence, and surely he doesn’t take pleasure in it. Surely he wouldn’t break his vow to me.

In this one instance, I need to know for sure.

“When you say you’ll protect me…” My voice comes out strangled, and I have to clear my throat.

“I’ll do anything to keep you safe,” Liam says. He’s trying to reassure me, but his earnestness only makes me feel queasier.

“But nothing…” I begin. “Nothing irrevocable, right?” He promised not to kill Harrison. He swore it to me.

“Irrevocable?” Liam asks, but he knows what the word means.

And what I’m implying.

As he furrows his dark eyebrows, I realize he’s stalling for time. My stomach churns so badly I can taste bile on the back of my tongue. It hurts me deep in my soul, but I have to press him on this.

“You don’t seek out… I mean, you don’t enjoy… And you didn’t…” But again, I can’t finish my sentence. I wait for him with my heart in my throat. Then he shakes his head.

“I don’t enjoy the burdens of leadership,” he says firmly. “And most importantly, I would never do anything to upset you.”

All of the breath rushes out of my lungs, and my body goes limp with relief.

“My love for you is real,” he says, “and I want our marriage to be real too.”

“Liam.” My knees are so weak I feel ready to collapse. “I want that more than anything.”

I’ve barely finished speaking before he’s standing up, wrapping me in his arms, and kissing me with more passion than I’ve ever felt from him before. It flows through my body like electricity, stiffening my nipples and gathering as unbearable heat in my core.

He loves me. He would never do anything to upset me. He doesn’t relish violence—he sees it as his duty.

As he threads his fingers through my hair, my worry evaporates. My trust in Liam O’Sullivan is complete, and so is my love for him.

When he breaks our kiss, I’m left momentarily confused. Then he reaches for a folded piece of muslin on the side table. In one flawless motion, he snaps it out like a blanket, and floats it down on top of the daybed, protecting all of my quilts.

As he seizes me by the waist, I’m eager for his kiss again, but he picks me up to toss me onto the bed, so aggressively that I bounce a little. Before I can gasp in surprise, he’s on top of me. I love the feel of his muscular body pressing mine down onto the mattress.

There’s something so much more intimate about making love on a bed. Liam and I sleep together every night, and yet we’ve never had sex in the master bed of this penthouse. And now, with our engagement real, it’ll be our marital bed soon.

There’s also something more deeply connecting about him on top like this. He smothers me with his strength, firm where I’m soft, hard where I’m wet.

I reach down to feel him with my fingers, but he moves my touch aside, all his attention on my dress. As he rucks my skirt up to my waist, he slides his hand along my inner thigh. The roughness of his palm makes me shiver, and then he’s cupping my dripping sex, his calluses skimming along my folds.

“No panties,” he murmurs. “My perfect girl.”

My nipples stiffen into diamond points beneath his chest. I don’t explain that I’d just gotten out of the shower, that I’d forgotten to bring a bra and panties to the bathroom, and then neglected to find any in my search for Liam instead. I’d been so focused on him, the way I am now, my world nothing but his touch, his praise.

“So fucking eager for my cock.” He presses hard against my wetness, his palm rubbing my clit.

His dirty words zing through me, and I lower my hand tentatively between us again. This time, he lets me, and I moan at how hard he is beneath his jeans. Knowing that I turn him on so easily, simply by being myself, makes me feel powerful. He groans into my mouth as I stroke him through the fabric.

I slide down my other hand to unbuckle his belt, but he pulls away. The next second, he’s standing beside me as I lie on the bed. With him so far above me, I feel the weight of his authority as he gazes down at my face.